She Always Knew
by audi katia
Summary: As humans say, no one knows you better than yourself." A conversation between Spock and Spock Prime about the mother they loved and lost.


_Believe it or not, I actually can write something that's not humorous or romantic. I know in many fics, Uhura is the one to comfort Spock, but I feel that he would first go to Spock Prime. It's not as romantic (obviously), but I feel it is more realistic and more compelling. I have written on more serious matters in other fandoms, but this is my first (serious and angsty) venture in Star Trek:2009. I would very much appreciate your opinion on whether or not I have handled this well._

_**Disclaimer**: I do not own Star Trek: 2009 or anything else affiliated. I promise._

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**She Always Knew**

Had Spock been a human, his leg would have been shaking frantically under his desk. Fortunately for him, he was not a full human and thus could control such obvious emotionally afflicted bodily movements. Rapid movement of any body part dictates an anxious or impatient mood, to which Spock unwillingly suffered from.

"Transmission received," the computer's voice rang out coolly in his otherwise empty quarters.

Spock continued to stare at the monitor in front of him, carefully arranging his facial features into a calm countenance.

"Good evening, Ambassador," he greeted respectfully as his future self's image surfaced onto the screen.

"Good evening, Spock," his counterpart returned. "I must say, I am surprised. Pleasantly so, to say the least."

Spock raised his eyebrows covertly. Though the ambassador still complied with his Vulcan heritage, he was more lax with his expression and allowed minor emotions to inflect his tone.

"I wished to ask a somewhat unorthodox inquiry."

Under the scrutiny of watchful eyes, he allowed himself to shift minutely in his chair which had, all of a sudden, become infinitely more uncomfortable.

"By all means, please ask anything you like," Spock Prime prompted amiably.

"In your timeline," Spock began, slowly repeated the words he had planned out in his mind days beforehand, "was Mother still alive?"

The genial look in the elder's eyes had diminished slightly into an emotion that Spock himself could not identify. Despite all irrationality, Spock felt as though the room had become slightly colder. He glanced over to the thermometer on his wall only to find that it was still to his preferred temperature.

"Interesting query, Spock," he began, breaking through the still silence. His voice lost all conversational tones and became the factual voice that Spock himself was more familiar with. "As you know, humans do not live as long as the Vulcan race. Our mother passed on many years ago."

"How old was she?" Spock inquired, removing all polite pretenses aside.

"Eighty-nine years, fourteen weeks, and five days," Spock Prime answered without a beat of hesitation. "Approximately," he added, a note of embarrassment coloring his words. With a gentle cough (Spock was nearly positive the cough was not entirely meant to clear his counterpart's throat), he continued. "In this timeline, Nero took out mother, correct?"

Spock nodded mechanically. Her demise had been several weeks prior, but the intensity of his anger and pain had barely diminished.

Spock Prime nodded once, his face deceptively expressionless. He leaned back in his own chair, with his spine ramrod straight and his eyes looking off to the side.

"Our father would not speak much on the matter," he said in a cool tone. His eyes met with Spock's once more as he took on a softer tone. "Thank you for confirming what I suspected."

"There is no need to thank me. I merely stated facts."

"Spock."

His tone was gentle, commanding. Spock instantly remembered his father's approach on the transporter after his attack on Captain Kirk. Jim. Like his father had asked him to speak his mind, he knew his elder self requested the same vocally emotive release.

"I experience a pain that I never anticipated."

The words spilled from his mouth without apology. He knew that he would be understood. As humans say, _no one knows you better than yourself_.

Spock Prime nodded solemnly, his ancient face growing older with each passing second. For something as physically intangible as guilt, it weighed itself impressively upon both men.

"To be expected. It is natural for you to experience such emotions. It has been years, and I still mourn the loss of our mother." His eyes shut briefly, and when they reopened, Spock felt a shallow undercurrent of shock to see how similar the older Vulcan's eyes were to his mother.

"She was, by human definition, a lovely woman," Spock Prime continued remorsefully, "and our first introduction to compassion."

A rampant parade of images and imprints involving tight hugs, gentle words, and a whirl of other loving comforts bombarded his mind. Yet, for the first time in weeks, Spock did not feel his stomach tighten as intensely. The pain of his mother's memory still remained, but he could remember cool hands fixing his collar without shutting his eyes to block out the vision.

"The Enterprise and her crew will provide you with more opportunities to become in touch with your humanity." Spock Prime spoke gently, bringing Spock back from recollections dating back to his rarely revisited childhood.

"Your advice to stay has been much appreciated," Spock said with a single nod. Spock Prime returned his note, and he knew his gratitude had been tacit. "My experiences thus far have been nearly exemplary."

If the elder Spock noticed the use of the word "nearly," he did not acknowledge it. His eyes had a distant look as though replaying past and unrepeatable events in his mind.

"As were mine," he trailed off, his lined face softer than Spock had ever seen on his older self. With a small, realigning movement of his head, he returned his full attentions.

"Is there more you wish to ask, Spock?"

Though it was logical to assume that he would undoubtedly understand his younger self, Spock still felt a trimmer of surprise as he realized a final question had formed unnoticed in his abundant mind.

"How did Mother die in your timeline?"

"Nothing more painful than old age. For that I am grateful," Spock Prime announced, causing the fine line between Spock's eyebrows to loosen. He, too, shared that appreciation.

"Her heart had become weaker in her more advanced years," he explained more thoroughly, as all Vulcans are apt to do when faced with a question. Then, in a completely un-Vulcan manner, the corners of his mouth lifted in a true, unmistakable smile, albeit a slightly poignant one. "She once claimed that it was weak due to how much love she had given to our father and us."

Spock allowed that same smile to mirror on his own face. He could recall his mother saying that same phrase in various tones of exasperation throughout the majority of his life. He and his father had always exchanged brief looks, but never verbalized their reactions.

"I regret that I never fully expressed my emotional attachment to her."

Something bitterly cold fluttered in his stomach as a lump formed in his throat. He stared down at the hands on his knees. His fingers clenched the fabric and skin underneath, as long as his father's and as white as his mother's.

"I share that same regret for you," Spock Prime said, though Spock refused to look up from his clenched fingertips. "I myself never informed her until her last few days that I loved her dearly."

Spock immediately looked up, needing to know her reaction, to see Spock Prime's expression.

"What did she say?"

He watched intently as a mixed shadow of remorse and relief ghosted across the wizened face.

"She said she knew. She said she always knew."

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_When Spock stands on the transfer pad with his arm outstretched, it is one of the most moving moments in that movie (if not the most moving moment). I wanted to provide my own insight to what might have transpired between her two Spocks, though I know this particular subject matter has been approached before._

_Please review._


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